


To Love a Veela

by monochrome_dragons



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Character Death, F/F, Fluff, Gen, Long-Term Relationship(s), M/M, Pain, Veela Draco Malfoy, Veela Mates
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-08
Updated: 2019-06-18
Packaged: 2020-02-28 12:31:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18756502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/monochrome_dragons/pseuds/monochrome_dragons
Summary: Draco and Harry both knew the consequences of delving into a relationship before Draco's sixteenth. Both knew the potential heartbreak that would occur should Draco's mate be anyone else. Both agreed they were prepared to admit it wasn't to be should that happen.But it happened.And Draco isn't willing to leave.





	1. 4th Year

Broom closets were maybe not the most practical of places, in any way, but Merlin were they ironic. They also didn't have much room, but Draco Malfoy thought that was more of a positive than anything. Anything to get closer to Harry Potter, right? And you couldn't get much closer than chest-to-chest, and mouth-to-mouth.

This entire situation was not surprising though. It had been a long time coming, and when it had finally happened, it almost seemed like both boys were desperate. They probably were. After all, they'd spent so much of the previous year dancing around each other, sending flirty remarks, and glances, and smirks. Always dropping constant hints, but never doing anything to make anything official.

"There's no way this isn't a scandal." Harry breathed, turning them so Draco's back was to the wall, and fiddling with the clasps of his robes.

Draco bit his lip, one hand in Harry's arm, and the other at the back of his neck, "Where would the fun be if it wasn't?"

Harry laughed, and kissed the blonde again, pushing the robes from his shoulders, and setting to work on the green and silver tie. With robes and ties discarded, hands roamed, trailing under shirts, while mouths reached necks and collarbones, leaving splashes of colour in their wake. Both were pleasantly exhausted before they decided that they should stop, and sat eith innocently unbuttoned shirts for a few moments.

"Dinner will be starting soon." Draco murmured into Harry's shoulder.

"Hm."

"We should probably go."

"Probably."

But neither moved for another few minutes, until they heard the general hustle of students heading to dinner, though they took their time doing buttons, and clasps, and the knots, for they couldn't leave until the corridor was empty anyway. Draco went for the door handle first. Harry's voice stopped him.

"You should date me."

Draco turned back in shock, the weight of what Harry had just asked heavy on his mind, and not totally for a good reason. While he was in fact thrilled that Harry wanted to be with him, he wasn't entirely sure how hair it would be to the Gryffindor. In hindsight, this whole thing was probably unfair, because it gave them both hope.

"I'm a Veela." He blurted out, his expression turning stony with the overwhelming onslaught of emotions.

And he could see every matched emotion in Harry's eyes, and the realisation of what that three word sentence actually meant, and why it held so much heaviness that it had been blurted out in replace of a simple 'yes' or 'no' answer to Harry's question. The realisation that as a Veela, two years from now, when Draco turned sixteen, he would be gifted (or indeed, cursed) with the innate compulsion to find his mate. And if Draco said yes to Harry now, then what would happen if Harry wasn't his mate?

But Harry's face softened into a lopsided grin.

"Date me anyway."

And who was Draco to refuse dedication like that? Especially when it led for some choice words and astonished stares from the majority of the Great Hall when the two entered hand in hand.


	2. 6th Year

Draco felt queasy. In truth, he'd felt queasy since he'd woken up on June 5th, so maybe that was just the compulsion everybody talked about in Veelas. He hoped not, he didn't quite like the idea of feeling constantly ready to throw up until someone came along and fixed it all for him. It sounded like some dumb fable. He couldn't recall any bedtime stories with happy endings that started with somebody throwing up on a moving train. Knowing his luck, he'd throw up all over Harry when he got to their compartment. It was likely, considering how the queasiness increased with every step he took. And Merlin forbid anybody bump into him and send his head and stomach reeling.

Conversation stopped abruptly in its flow when Draco opened the compartment door.

"Bloody Hell," Ron exclaimed as the others gasped, "You look awful mate."

"That's an understatement." Pansy snorted.

Draco smiled feebly, "Thanks guys. Can always count on you."

He turned his gaze to Harry, who gave him a sympathetic smile, and held out his hand towards him from where he was sat by the window. The way things usually worked in the rather cramped compartments would be three to a side, and hope you could get comfortable. The girls however, had come up with a better plan. They sat on the left side of the compartment with Ron, who sat closest to the door, while they sat by the window, while they sat by the window, Hermione with a slight pink hint to her cheeks as she was sat in Pansy's lap. Pansy, of course, wasn't blushing at all. And then, on the right side, Blaise sat by the door, opposite Ron, and Harry sat by the window, leaving the middle seat for Draco should he choose to take it. But for now his attention was back on Harry's outstretched hand. It wasn't a strange action particularly, though usually, Harry preferred to just grab Draco's hand, and pull.

But this was different.

Draco was sixteen now, and this moment was very much a hold-your-breath sort of moment, as taking Harry's hand would either lead to overwhelming relief, or total heartbreak. Though Draco would be lying if he said he didn't know what he'd say in either situation.

With a sharp, yet shaky intake of breath, he reached and took Harry's hand...

Nothing.

Absolutely nothing but the warmth of his skin.

He could barely make his voice heard, and he was certain that had he managed to be any louder than the whisper he'd produced, then shock would turn to near unstoppable tears.

"It's not you."

Harry was only too quick to tug his hand, pulling Draco into a bone crushing hug. Blaise then moved in to hug him from behind, and Pansy draped over them when Hermione stood. The remaining Gryffindors hugged the pile of bodies seconds later. Draco was just quiet, and still, shock being the only thing keeping him sane, until it passed and all he could do was cry.

With shaking hands he scrambled to reach for Harry's face, and the others had barely figured they should move back before Draco had captured him in a heated kiss, grasping at the shorter boy's robes. It was a short kiss, that much was true, but it had desperation that allowed Draco to speak before Harry could even catch his breath.

"I'm not leaving you."

Harry looked confused. True, Draco thought he was allowed some confusion. After all, this was Draco going back on exactly what they had agreed upon. At the time, Draco hadn't quite realised just how agonising it would be to find out that Harry was not his mate. If he had, he probably never would have agreed to something so heartbreaking in the first place.

"Draco, we- we agreed-"

"I know. I don't care. I'm not leaving you."

Harry sighed, "All due respect love, but I really doubt you'll feel that way when you meet your actual mate."

"Try me, golden boy." Draco smirked, "You're who I want to be with. My emotions are stronger than some stupid innate decision I didn't even want."

"Maybe." The messy haired boy agreed reluctantly, "but not being with me won't literally kill you."

"Harry's right Draco," Hermione pointed out, "For a Veela to deny their mate, or more commonly, for a mate to reject the Veela causes the Veela intense pain and eventually-"

"Death. I know, I know. Then let me live out the last part of my life in happiness."

"You're not dying." Pansy argued sternly.

"Agreed." Harry nodded, "You're not dying. Because you're going to find your mate. And we're-"

"Don't say it." Draco said in a voice that shut everybody up immediately, "Don't say over. We're not over. I- Please?"

Nobody replied to that for a few moments. Nobody really knew how, which Draco suspected wasn't surprising. He probably sounded quite dramatic. Here he was openly admitting that he'd rather die than leave his boyfriend. And really, what sort of person did that?

Him apparently.

"How about this," Blaise spoke up eventually, wetting his lips and proceeding with caution, "You stay together, because Draco's made it clear he won't go without a fight, and Harry, mate, it's obvious you don't want to go either. So stay together. Until Draco finds his mate."

"Even when I do, I'm not leaving."

"Draco-" Harry began, but Ron interrupted.

"Then stay together until Draco explicitly says he wants to leave."

"But what if I want to leave?" Harry snapped, the situation obviously getting to him.

"Harry..." Draco frowned, his voice pitiful as he tugged at Harry's hand.

"No." He pulled away, "I'm serious. What if I do?"

Draco looked down to hide the tears pooling in his eyes. His heart all but broke in two and he swore he hated it more than the constant nauseous feeling in the pit of his stomach. He swore that if Harry really meant what he was saying that he must be his mate, because his whole world just might crumble around him, and he would never be able to will his heart to keep beating.

"Do you want to?" Hermione whispered.

"Of course not!" Harry exclaimed, tugging at his hair in exasperation.

"Fine." Pansy said, "How about: you stay together unless Draco explicitly states, under his own free will, that he wants to go. Or Harry explicitly states, under his own free will, that he wants to go for any reason other than the issue with not being Draco's mate. And should he ever say he wants to go, he must take veritaserum so we can be sure his reason is valid."

Blaise chuckled and muttered something about how very Slytherin she was.

Draco didn't say anything, assuming that everybody would already know his answer, but looked up. He wasn't the only one looking to Harry for his answer, and he guessed they were all hoping for the same answer.

"Harry sighed, "Yeah. Yeah, okay. That seems fair." he looked to Draco and must have noticed the look he was trying to hide, placing his hand against Draco's cheek, "I don't ever want to leave you love. Not ever. But I'd rather not see you die at sixteen either."

"I know," he shuffled closer, "I know but I hate this thing that's chosen for me. I just want to be with you."

Harry sighed, but he smiled warmly, and pressed his palm against Draco's and interlocked their fingers.

"Then be with me, you shall."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is so short goddamnit. Hopefully they'll start getting longer now. As always hope you enjoyed!
> 
> \- Jupiter x


	3. Untouchables

Draco took on a rather annoying habit of refusing to touch anybody outside of their little group. In fact, for the first couple of weeks the only person he had touched was Harry, because not even a complete stranger being his mate terrified him more than one of his best friends being  his mate. And he was diligent. They tried prodding him, nudging him, bumping into him, but he didn't have any of it. Until one evening, they sat out in the courtyard, and Blaise finally said what everyone had been thinking.

"You can't go on like this. You can't go the rest of your life avoiding contact. We're all friends here, I think I speak correctly when I say that Harry knows it's not your fault if one of us just so happens to be your mate."

"Of course! And I trust these people the most Draco, so do you, it's not like I'd be leaving you with someone of the worst type."

Draco had sighed, truly not liking the idea at all, but he knew he couldn't get out of it once all but Harry held out their hands, palms up, and eyes trained on him. They would get this done somehow, and maybe it was better if he agreed.

So one by one Draco reached out with shaky hands to initiate contact with each of his friends. And as he reached the last one, he dissolved into relieved tears. Truth be told, he'd been crying a lot recently, over things that usually wouldn't have been worth his attention, but Hermione had been quick to lift his spirits by suggesting it probably had something to do with the constant queasy uncomfortable feeling. Draco was inclined to agree if only to be able to put a reasoning to it all.

"So." Pansy had said, "It's not one of us."

Harry had sighed, knowing Draco's resolve would continue to be to touch nobody, "I kind of wish it had been."

But he had squeezed Draco's hand reassuringly, to let him know exactly how he had meant the comment. But Draco knew. Harry would have preferred a friend, to a stranger because he had completely resigned himself to the fact that he was on borrowed time. He fully expected some force to take hold of Draco once he found his mate which would pull him away with ease, and Harry was trying to remember that so he could prepare for the heartbreak. But at least if it was a friend, Harry wouldn't have to immediately say goodbye, because he would be allowed to do so in his own time, because their group would honour the somewhat claim Harry had over Draco - the seniority of their relationship over something Draco had no choice in.

"I'm not leaving you. What part of that is so difficult to understand? Besides, it won't matter if I don't ever find my mate will it?"

And that was how Draco came to refuse contact with any other than his friends. And he made up for the lack of contact with them in extreme amounts. He always had his fingers laced with Harry's, and when they sat together in class, he always touched his knee to Harry's and kept it there. In the rare cases that Harry wasn't around, Draco latched to Pansy as they had done so often when they were twelve, or he would leisurely prop his legs up on Blaise's lap. Walking down corridors, he'd swing his arm over Ron's shoulders, or loop his arm with Hermione's and it didn't seem to annoy any one of them, somehow just knowing that this wasn't something Draco was even aware of. It didn't make the sight any less saddening for them though.

They saw how he was when he couldn't be near them, and it was enough to break hearts. He curled in on himself, stayed as far away as possible, and flinched if someone made so much as a flicker of movement in his direction. It was heart wrenching but there was nothing anybody could think to do. He wouldn't listen if they suggested it would be fine, and if they pushed it, he would shut off from them completely, or be overwhelmed with tears at the idea that he might accidentally come across his mate. And nobody hated the tears more than Draco. He spent many a nights holding back said tears. Mumbling in frustration to himself that Malfoys didn't cry, and what would his father think? And this was all just because he had little control over everything right now. And it wasn't fair but he just had to deal with it, and even if nobody else thought so, he was sure he was doing to right thing. If it meant he didn't have to lose Harry, then surely it would be worth it. Right?

It might have done him good to remember that he shared a dorm with Blaise who heard every night of his woes, and while he said nothing about it during the day, it was the thing he dreaded as every day came to its close, because he was helpless against whatever was going on in Draco's head and all he could do was listen to the pitiful whispers that Draco used to try and calm himself.

It was safe to say that he was miserable, and it killed him inside just that little bit more because he was only reminded of it when he was alone. His friends were so good at making him happy that it hit him like a tidal wave every time he was isolated and he didn't know how to deal with it. Until one day the presence of his friends wasn't able to keep him grounded, and he spent the afternoon slumped against Harry in a daze. It was a warm Saturday, and they had ventured to the lake with various snacks they'd packed from lunch earlier that afternoon, and the laughter was like a drill inside Draco's head and he hadn't said a word. When he finally did speak, he realised he'd been so lost in his thoughts that he'd had no idea what the topic of conversation had been and he ended up blurted out his request in the middle of a discussion. It silenced everybody, but he reddened in the embarrassment of interrupting the others.

"Can I sleep in Gryffindor tonight?"

They had done it before where Harry would sneak Draco into Gryffindor tower, or vice versa and Harry would sleep in the dungeons, but they didn't do it often, and it was usually special occasions. It was such an outburst that nobody said anything for a moment, until Harry pulled the boy closer, nuzzling into the crook of his neck.

"If you want to, love."

"Please."

Harry nodded and Hermione gave a warm smile when he caught her eye. As did Blaise, but his smile was sadder, as though he understood the request, and in truth he probably did. He had known Draco almost as long as Pansy had after all. And it was moments like these that Draco was overwhelmed with gratitude for his friends, the new and the old. Where he would be without them was sometimes too dark to give thought to.

\---

That evening, just before dinner, Pansy accompanied Draco to his dorm while he packed his school bag for the night. If Professors had ever noticed them visiting each other's Common Rooms, they had been nice enough not to say anything, and it occurred to Draco that they certainly wouldn't be the first or the last students to do so.

"Are you okay, Draco?" Pansy asked, after a long while of silence, "I mean like-  _really_  okay?"

"Why wouldn't I be?" he offered a confused look, as it tucked his toothbrush down the side of his bag.

"No it's just that- well it's pretty obvious that you have a lot going on, and I would never undermine that. But I think... Well, I feel like you are. Undermining it, that it. I think it's all bothering you a lot more than you're letting on. And I get maybe you don't always want to talk about it, but if it's really affecting you so much, you know we're all here. Or me. I'm here if you don't want everyone. I always will be Draco, I thought you knew that."

Draco didn't answer for a long moment, wetting his lips, and closing his fists around the straps of his bag, though it wasn't fully packed yet.

"Of course I know that," his voice cracked, "Of course I do. I just- I don't always know how to start a conversation like that? I don't want to just come up to you, put a dampener on your mood by just announcing 'ah yes, I have literally never been more terrified in my life to lose someone, and the fact that I have no choice in the matter whatsoever is actually killing me inside, and it's exhausting to avoid every potential moment of contact on the off chance I accidentally touch my mate'. Something like that isn't easy unprompted. You know I trust you with my life, Pansy, but..." he sighed, and let go of the bag defeatedly, "But my life doesn't feel like my own anymore. It's not mine to trust people with."

Pansy shifted where she was sat on Draco's bed, and gave a soft sigh.

"Whose is it then? If not yours?"

"Whoever my stupid bloody mate is. Their existence in general is what's making me feel so sick all the time, and the longer I'm away, the more uncomfortable I get. Tell me that isn't some fucked up control over me."

"Of course it is," Pansy reasoned, choosing her words carefully, "But it's also not their fault. They didn't chose it either."

"No, maybe not. But they have the choice to disregard me. They can reject me, and go on to love whoever the Hell they want, while I hit an early grave."

"That's true..."

Draco sighed again, and looked down, continuing to pack his bag, perhaps with more hostility than was necessary, but who could blame him?

"I'm sorry. I'm fine - really I am. I'm dealing with it best I can, and I shouldn't have just unloaded all that on you."

Pansy mumbled something about it being her that asked, but Draco pretended not to hear. Silence returned, and lingered over them like dust until Draco had finished packing and closed his bag.

"It's why you want to go to Harry tonight isn't it?" Pansy asked, and Draco realised she must have been musing in the silence.

"Why?"

"Because you 'dealing with it' is just overthinking it all when you're alone isn't it? I've seen you when you're not with the group Draco. You're so... dazed. Like literally nothing matters, because you're not happy unless we're there to distract you. Plus you feel like you're running out of time, and you want as much of it with him as possible."

"I just want to be with my boyfriend." he replied, but it was quiet, and Pansy always knew when he was lying.

However, this time she was kind enough to keep quiet about it, and instead just stood, suggesting that they head down to dinner. They walked slowly, stopping by the courtyard to meet the others before heading to the Hall all together. The houses split once there, as usual, and Draco sat between Pansy and Blaise to avoid elbowing anybody who may just ruin his entire life. His precaution allowed dinner to commence without a hitch, with no announcements from any professors, and the meal being one that Draco thoroughly enjoyed. He joked with his friends, and it was almost possible for him to forget everything for a short while, and simply enjoy himself. Almost...

Because every time he looked across the hall, his eyes locked with Harry's and his heart couldn't make its mind up whether it was beating harder, or sinking to the pit of his stomach, leaving him with a heavier bout of queasiness. He couldn't help but think it physically hurt how much he loved that boy on the other side of the Hall, but so much so that sometimes he wished he'd said no in that broom closet in 4th year, because was all this love really worth all this pain that both of them now had to deal with? Why was it in any way fair? Maybe he personally deserved it somehow, but Harry certainly didn't and maybe if he could do things differently...

But it was a pointless thought, because Draco knew without a doubt that even if he could go back and do things again, he wouldn't have changed a single thing. Maybe he'd even have attempted a different route just to get Harry for longer. It wouldn't be surprising.

Draco asked Harry the same question after bidding Pansy and Blaise goodnight and walking out of the hall with him.

"If you could go back to 4th year, back to when we- y'know, would you do anything differently?"

Harry put some deep thought into it, like he was trying to work out how different things would have been between them if they hadn't gotten together. Trying to decide, like Draco, if the pain was worth the years worth of good memories, love and friendship.

"No," he decided, "I'd do exactly the same."

Draco smiled, and nudged Harry as they walked, taking him by the hand.

"Me too."

\---

Out of habit, Harry cast a silencing charm around his bed, though reddened considerably afterwards, realising how that might look to his dorm mates. Ron would probably laugh it up in the morning, and tease them, since he knew full well it was unlikely that anything would happen, but the others in the dorm. They would probably avoid eye contact, thinking they knew exactly what had happened.

But in fact, nights the two spent together were more often than not spent simply talking, or messing around. Sure, there would be some heated making-out thrown into the mix, or lazy making-out once they hit early morning, but the truth was, both had admitted to the other that anything more than their agreed line was frankly rather terrifying at present. Draco knew without asking Harry was coming more to the end of that phase, but he was lucky enough to know without question that pressure from Harry was nothing he had to worry about. It was sometimes an awkward topic to even really think about, but often Draco felt like it was the most normal thing about their relationship, because it was the only thing where questioning wasn't involved. That was mostly because Draco wouldn't have dreamt of going near anyone other than Harry, and it wasn't a worry when he hadn't even gotten so far as talking about that with Harry.

"Why did you ask me if I'd change anything earlier?" Harry asked at one point through the evening.

"I was thinking about it at dinner. Couldn't shut my mind up, and I guess I was curious."

"Did you think I would? Want to change it?"

Draco hummed, "I don't know what I thought. I guess it's an awkward question. We both said we wouldn't, but I think it's just common knowledge that everything would be easier if we had done it differently."

"Easier, but not necessarily better."

"Exactly," Draco nodded, "Which is why I said no. I don't think you understand how much I  _don't_  want to lose you."

Harry gave a sad little sigh, and leant closer, "I think you'd be surprised."

Draco didn't have an answer to that anyway, but just in case he had, Harry had kissed him anyway. Softly, at first, maybe expecting a brief one. But he rethought his expectation when Draco returned it, because they were alone after all, and Draco, as of now, was still his. Didn't that give him the right to kiss the hell out of him, so long as Draco agreed? But then, it was practically a given that Draco would agree, and was in fact the one to deepen the kiss, no doubt sensing Harry's reluctance to pull away just yet. And like that conversation was deemed over, and the need for oxygen was overtaken by the need for closeness, and each other. And being sat side by side very quickly became impractical and Draco found himself back against sheets, Harry hovering above him, both trying to get closer than physics allowed, with fingers clutching at handfuls of fabric, and soon after, fingertips against bare torsos, leaving goosebumps and accidental, flurried scratch marks. Draco could have sworn he'd already memorised Harry, hair to waist by touch, but still he surprised himself, still constantly finding the places where ribs could be felt under flesh when Harry stretched, or places along his waist band, and up his sides that brought more goosebumps, and slight shudders.

And Draco once again found himself overwhelmed. Because it was times like these that he never wanted to end. He would curse morning hours, and when the sun rose, he would wish  it away for just a few more perfect moments.


End file.
